So...It's been a while...but have no fear. There are so many dates to update you on.
I think this is a good place to start...
So he was fine...and light skin. That was the first problem. However, he lived by himself, had a job, with benefits and was fashionable. Check. Check. Check.
But the first time I met him--He told that he liked that I talk "proper for the Black girl." Yes, he's Black. Then he went on to say, "I also like that you are educated." I'm sorry sir...I'm not sure what type of Black girls that you have been accustomed to, but...there are a lot of educated Black women... (I said this in my head)....then he finished the stupidity with, "But the secret is, I usually date Spanish girls."
Now, I should've said, well go ahead and get Consuela who lives above the bodega, with her kid and three little sisters, and her mother, and her aunt, and her abuela who is staying for the summer. I didn't though. I liked him. Don't ask my why, but there was something about his crazy that was interesting to me. Very interesting.
So he goes on to explain that Spanish chics are usually all about him and that's what he likes, and he's looking for a family, and on and on. And my friend said he really said, "I'm insecure and too immature to give you the love you deserve, so I find other insecure girls to coddle me and run behind me." But I liked him.
Fast forward to date night. We decide to keep it in the house and "chill' out. Yes, chill. It ends up being one of those magical movie moments where he was nothing but the perfect gentleman, we talked all night, giggled, laughed, shared that rare intimacy that people dream about and I felt like I could deal with his crazy. The next day, he goes to play basketball and stay home to run errands and catch up on some sleep. I didn't call him, because in my mind, I was like well he's with his guys let him play ball, he will call me when he's done.
He didn't call.
So the next morning, I send that Happy Monday text...and I get back, "Yeah, thanks for calling me yesterday, I went to the hospital. Something about a girl that can't be there for me I want no parts of."
Wait.
What.
I'm all apologetic and ask what the injury was....he pulled a muscle in his calf. So...what you're trying to tell me is, you have a charlie horse and you went to the hospital? Where do they do that at?
Needless to say, this fell off...until I hit him up to ask how he was weeks later.
"Hey! How are you"?
"Heyyy friend," (you see how he made sure to throw that friend in) "I'm good, just working and saving up for vacation."
"Ok, cool."
I put the phone down and went about my business. The next morning, I reach for my phone and the text that's waiting from this idiot...
"Hey, you should lend me $50 for vacation..."
Wait.
What.
Testing to see if he was serious, I said, "When and when am I getting it back..." He responds..."OMG, forget it..."
Who needs $50 for vacation?? If you need $50 for vacation, you shouldn't be going...$50 is something you ask your mother for...your sister...best friend. Not ME.
And the funniest part? My friend in group chat goes..."Where the hell is he going, Resorts Casino"?!
